Unapproachable Makeup Novels & Stories

Matured even. I apply some hair product to make it glossy and move on to my make up. Thanks all the skincare I’ve been doing as a way of passing time for the months now, my skin is clear and unblemished. I opt to keep it as natural as possible. Winged linge, nude lips and a few coats of mascara.

When Adina was about to speak, she suddenly became stunned. When the light outside the window shone on their faces, there were a total of scars on the four faces. They were clearly red lipstick marks. With the eyeshadow and foundation as finish-off, they looked like very deep wounds. “Mommy, Mel put this makeup on for us,” Harold proudly said, “Georgie said this makeup is called Scar Makeup. It’s very popular on the internet now. Does it look good?” Adina’s eyes suddenly became watery. The kids must have seen the online news, so they put two scars on their faces.

"Allena! The sorcerer's apprentice is here. What are you still doing?" Marcus was all ready for our next adventure. He walked to stand next to me and waited impatiently, looking at my reflection in the mirror. I coated my eyelashes with mascara, popped on some nude lipstick, and set my face with a setting spray. "What's the point in applying such a color?" He smirked, examining my peachy nude lipstick. "You obviously know nothing about the 2019 lipstick trends."

"It's not that bad. A little makeup should cover it." "No little makeup is covering that and light makeup was the entire concept today." Nadia pinched the bridge of her nose, the same gesture I'd watched her make a hundred times over the years, usually seconds before she had to clean up one of my disasters. "That's the whole brief, Charissa. Fresh-faced… Approachable… We only have today. Fuck… fuck… fuck…One day, one booking, and you show up looking like you went ten rounds behind a bathroom." I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

I whispered. They have been more active lately, especially at night. Sometimes I wondered if they could sense the energy around us. The anticipation. The shift. The makeup artist arrived shortly after, laying out brushes like surgical tools. “What’s the vibe?” she asked. “Confident,” I answered. “Radiant and not over the top.” She studied my face thoughtfully. “Soft gold on the eyes with defined lashes and natural contour with a bold lip?” I hesitated. A bold lip meant a statement. “Yes,” I said finally. “But not red.”

“Nothing too dramatic.” “She needs to look approachable,” the woman with the tablet said. “But polished.” I wasn’t part of the conversation. They spoke about me like I wasn’t there. Like I was a mannequin they were dressing for display. A brush passed over my cheek. “Hold still,” someone murmured. I stared at my reflection. My face was already changing. Not drastically. Subtly. Like they were sanding off parts of me that didn’t fit. When they moved to makeup, it got worse.

Larissa approached the audience and asked a few female audience. "I just compounded this beauty cream. It can remove freckles and wrinkles. Would you like to try it out?" The common ground between these women was that they all had bad skin. Some had a lot of acne, some had saggy skin, and some had very noticeable laugh lines and marionette lines. They all shook their heads. What kind of beauty cream was that? It was just an uncertified product that she made on the spot. None of them wanted to test it out.

Makeup is not a mask. Makeup is art. Makeup is Passion. Makeup is an expression. I found the quote to be true when my eyes fell on the mirror, and I gawked at the girl staring back. Her hair was swept up in a messy ballerina bun with curls falling around her round face, and her makeup was immaculately perfect. Smokey eyeshadow under freshly waxed eyebrows, made the baby blue in her eyes pop like a blue lagoon in a dark cave, and light pink lipstick adorned her lips in complement to the blush on her cheeks.

I didn't bother replying to her, I just glared at them. The makeup artists moved quietly around the room, setting up their supplies with the kind of precision that came with years of experience. I could feel their eyes on me, their discomfort at the silent tension in the room, but I wasn’t about to make it easy for them. I wasn’t just going to let Kade’s people turn me into some pretty little doll for his amusement. One of them gently approached me, holding up a delicate gown with a knowing look in her eyes. “You’re going to look stunning, Alpha,” she said softly, as if trying to placate me.

And, she wondered if Stephano already gave up on his apology. “Please ma'am. We want your eyes staring forward.” The head makeup artist pointed out politely and Rose nodded dropping her phone on the vanity table. It took more than thirty minutes to get her face all dolled up. Her lips were a fine shade of red almost dripping dark red like the forbidden apple from the garden of Eden. Her lashes stood out but it wasn't too much to form an umbrella. And, it made her eyes stand out more. The makeup on her was little but very intense and enticing. Rose couldn't help but compare herself to that of a model.